


Scandalous

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Exhibitionism, Intern Peter, M/M, President Tony, Sex Toys, White House AU, vibrating butt plug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-08-28 18:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16728774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Mr. President, fuck. me. please





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> kinda inspired by _Scandal_ , but not super similar at all.

“Mr. President!”

“Mr. President, over here!”

“Mr. President, how do you feel now that Republican Senate Majority Leader Steve Rogers has come out against the bill?”

“Just one question Mr. President!”

“President Sta-” The shout gets cut off midway as Tony shuts the door behind him, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples as his Chief of Staff settles in next to him.

“They’re like vultures,” Pepper comments as she puts on her seat belt, “waiting ready for the smallest hint that this bill isn’t going to pass.”

Tony’s about to respond when his head of security interrupts him. “Sorry to cut you off, but ready to go, Mr. President? First Lady?”

“Yeah Nat, go ahead,” Pepper answers, and Nat announces into the mic on her lapel that Iron Man and Extremis are on the move before the car starts, the motorcade pulling away from the Hill and starting up Independence Avenue.

There’s a few minutes of silence in the car, Tony’s gaze directed out the window as he speaks. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing? Pushing this bill through, I mean. Especially now? It’ll make it through the House, we have the votes, T’Challa will see to that. But you heard Rogers, there’s no guarantees in the Senate. And there’s only so much Bruce can do. What if we’re doing this all for nothing?”

His wife places her hand on top of his and squeezes. “We’re doing this now because it’s the bets thing for this country. To make sure no child has to go through what you did when you lost your parents. This country _needs_ gun reform, Tony. And you’re the only person that can give it to them. Besides, Rogers is all talk and Bruce is a great Minority Leader. He’ll whip the Democrats into shape. I’m sure he and T’Challa will be able to talk a few moderates over to our side. And you do have a pretty great Chief of Staff if I do say so myself,” Pepper finishes with a wink. “We’ll get it done. You’ll see.”

Nat moves in the front seat, turning around to look at the First Couple as she speaks. “All due respect, Mr. President, Senator Rogers is an asshole. I don’t know many people, even in the Republicans, who have anything nice to say about the guy. Complain he doesn’t know how to compromise on anything, always thinks he’s right. I’m sure a few well-placed guarantees for funding and such in the future could win you the votes you needed. And your wife is the best Chief of Staff you could’ve asked for, she’s not going to stop until this bill is signed into law, we all know it.”

“Thanks, babe.” Pepper blows a kiss in Nat’s direction, and she responds with a wink before turning around.

“I don’t think there was anything respectful about that, Nat,” Tony laughs. “But you’re right, he is a world class douchebag. We’re going to be fine. We can do this… Right?”

“Right.” Pepper and Nat answer at the same time, and they all laugh. They spend the rest of the ride sharing stories about their day spent on the Hill, whipping votes for the bill. Pepper laments for the thousandth time that he should never have run as an Independent, and Tony reminds her that it was the only they managed to convince Rhodey to run as his VP, and they reminisce about the simpler days of the campaign, the motorcade soon making its way through the White House gates.

Nat gets out first and opens his door, and Happy, Pepper’s head of security, does the same for her. They make their way inside and to the residence, Pepper and Nat wishing Tony a good night as he settles onto the sofa with a bottle of scotch before they make their way inside their bedroom. It’s days like this where Tony’s reminded how lucky he is that the two of them are willing to do so much for him.

He’d offered Pepper a divorce before he’d started his campaign, because even though they still loved each other, they hadn’t been _in love_ for a long time, and Pepper deserved the happiness that Nat could bring her. But both of them had insisted no one was getting divorced until after his two terms, and even though he tried to push back, they were the two most stubborn women he’d ever met. Pepper had burned the divorce papers in the background while Nat had threatened him with a graphic violence leading to his eventual death if he ever brought it up again before the decade was over, and he’d wisely kept his mouth shut ever since. They trust their residence staff implicitly, they’ve been with Tony since his childhood and all through his congressional and senatorial years, and they can keep a secret.

He knocks back half the bottle before he decides to call it a day, because even though he sobered up considerably before launching his political career, there are days when the call of the bottle is almost too much to resist. It’s easier when he’s around people, awake until the early hours of the morning strategizing, or days of campaigning and fundraising where he’s so tired he could fall asleep standing up. But nights like this, when the House is quiet and Pepper’s with Nat and he’s all alone, he has to spend a little too long reminding himself why it’s not worth it.

He wakes up the next day with a mild headache, another reminder that he’s forty-eight years old, not eighteen, and the days of being able to have more than one drink without consequences are long behind him. Pepper pops her head inside the door right as his alarm goes off, shooting a quick “wake the fuck up, we have work to do” in his direction in lieu of a good morning, and he rubs at his eyes while stretching before groggily making his way to the bathroom, already resigned to the fact that no amount of meditation is going to prepare him for the exhausting day ahead.

> **

Peter flashes his security badge as he quickly takes off his belt and dumps everything in his pockets in the tray, quickly shuffling through the metal detector. He hurriedly puts his belt back and grabs everything in the tray before sprinting through the halls, dodging aides, tourists and other staff as he rushes to his cubicle. He thankfully manages to get to the West Wing without any accidents, and the other interns crowd around him, reaching for their respective drinks. MJ grabs hers first, taking a sip and letting out a pleased sigh as Peter reaches for the last cup of coffee left. “Jeez Parker, cutting it close much? You know how pissed Hill would’ve been if you’d walked in after she got here?”

“Yeah, yeah I know. But yenno what the bike is like from Georgetown. Actually, Ms. I Have a Car but Never Give My Friends Rides, you don’t.”

“It’s not my fault you cant be trusted to wake up on time! And besides-”

Before MJ gets a chance to finish her statement, someone knocks into Peter, and most of the coffee in his hands ends up spilt down the front of his shirt. “Watch it, Penis.” Flash mutters as he walks past.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re in the fucking White House, grow the fuck up Flash,” MJ throws back at him, but Peter just cuts her off with a wave of his hand.

“Just leave it, MJ. Come with me to the bathroom, help me salvage this mess.” Peter drags her behind him to the bathroom, and they both grab some wet paper towels and a little bit of soap as they try to scrub away what they can.

> **

“Hey, I gotta use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

“Jeez Tones, we’ve been at this for what, less than two hours, you chickening out all ready?”

“Quit being so dramatic, Rhodes, two minutes, I’ll be back. Call Senator Lang in the meantime. His daughter needs to get into college somewhere, remind him how easy it would be to ruin her life, see if his precious Steve Rogers can help him then.”

“Hmm, will do, boss.”

“Thanks man.” Tony exits the Oval as Rhodey picks up the phone, hears the beginnings of a mildly hostile conversation his Vice President is about to have with the Senator. Nat and Clint follow behind him as he makes his way to the bathroom. Nat stops outside as Clint walks in with him, but Tony stops short at the sight of the two teenagers in the bathroom, one of whom could quite possibly be the most beautiful thing Tony had ever seen.

The boy is frantically rubbing at his shirt, tie undone, first few buttons opened, shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal perfectly pale, unmarked skin. The soft pink of his bottom lips is being nibbled to death in between his teeth, honey brown hair flopping into his eyes as he and his companion try to make a stain disappear, he assumes. Tony stands star struck for a few ~~hours~~ ~~minutes~~ seconds, and it’s the boy’s soft voice that pulls him out of his day dream.

“Oh! Mr. President!”

“Hey kids. You do know this is the men’s room, right?” He can’t help the small smile on his face, it only gets larger as he sees the vivid blush dust the boy’s cheeks, and Tony can’t help but think how _pretty_ he is.

The girl answers for him, since it appears the boy is at a slight loss for words. “He had a bit of a coffee accident, sir, he’s kind of a klutz.”

“MJ!” Peter hisses the reprimand in her direction, the colour on his cheeks deepening to a darker red.

“Yeah, I can see that now. That scrubbing isn’t going to do much, boy. Here, come with me, I can lend you something old of mine, might have something that would fit you.”

“Sir, I’m not so sure that’s a great idea. No offense, kid. Just a safety thing.” Clint attempts to cut in, but Tony waves him off.

“Look at him, he’s harmless. Besides, he’s an intern. Fully vetted and everything.”

“Sir, really, it’s totally fine, I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’ll manage.”

“Nonsense, it’s no bother. C’mon.” Tony tilts his head in the direction of the door, expecting the boy to follow, which he does. He scrambles to keep up with Tony, short strides little match for the older man’s longer ones. Nat and Clint walk behind them with a loose follow, like they always do when Tony’s having a conversation. “What’s your name, kid?”

“P-peter, sir. Peter Parker.”

“Well, Peter, it’s nice to meet you.” Tony reaches out a hand for the boy to shake as they make their way up the stairs to the residence. Peter accepts the handshake, and though his grip is strong, Tony can’t help but marvel at how _soft_ the hand is, and how dainty it looks in his grasp. He pulls away after a few seconds, and they reach the door to his room. He opens it and gestures for Peter to precede him. “After you.” He turns to Nat and Clint, “just wait out here, I’ll only be a couple minutes.”

Peter walks in and it’s only then that Tony realizes perhaps Clint was right, and bringing an extremely young adult to his bedroom unsupervised wasn’t the best idea because this could be misconstrued all kinds of ways, but well, too late now. Besides, the kid seems harmless, trying his best to be discreet in his gaping as he looks around the room.

“This way, kid.” Tony walks over to his walk in closet, heads over to the section where some of his older shirts are hung up, the ones he no longer fits into but couldn’t be bothered to do anything with. As he flicks through them he asks Peter a few more questions. “How old are you, Pete?”

“N-nineteen, sir.” Peter’s voice quavers, and he seems slightly nervous. Not bad for a teenager’s first close-quarter interaction with a President. Tony’s definitely seen worse.

“Oh, in school then are you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where at?”

“Georgetown.”

“Ooh, fancy. Majoring in Political Science I assume?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you always been interested?”

“Since I was old enough to know what politics were, yeah.” Peter doesn’t add on that the biggest reason for his interest in politics is President Stark himself. He’d been Representative Stark for the congressional district Peter, Aunt May, and Uncle Ben lived in until Peter had turned five, and then he’d been elected Senator Stark for two terms until he’d decided to run for President. Peter had voted for him in last year’s election, and if he didn’t know how corny it sounded, he’d tell everyone he wanted to be just like President Stark when he grew up. He idolized the man, for everything he stood for, for having the courage to run as an Independent, for fully self-funding his campaign so he wasn’t beholden to anyone. There was no end to Peter’s admiration, because the man deserved to be appreciated for everything he was. But Peter wasn’t blind either, and MJ was quick to point out that a huge part of his crush stemmed from the abundance of pictures of the President attending various fundraisers and parties during his political career that Peter regularly jerked off to. The man wore a suit so well it was criminal, and he was only a horny teenage boy, _sue him._

“Mm. Well, why did you decide to intern for my administration? Don’t say my handsome good looks, tell me something I don’t know.” Tony throws a wink over his shoulder, belatedly realising he’s _flirting_ with the boy, but as Peter flushes impossibly pink, Tony thinks the boy doesn’t mind.

“Uh, well, I admire a lot of things about you, Mr. President.” Peter trails off, looking a little unsure, but continues anyway, “but, uhm, the number one reason I’d have to say, is your dedication to gun reform. I, ah, lost my Uncle Ben to a robbery gone wrong, and all I could think at the time was ‘if it was harder for that criminal to get a gun, my uncle would still be alive.’ And so your work on that is really important to me, and I’m here to help in any way I can.”

Tony finally finds a shirt that looks like it would fit Peter’s lithe frame, turning around and holding it out, and the boy accepts with a soft “thank you.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Pete. I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard by now how I lost my parents in a similar accident, God knows everyone against this bill keeps bringing it up like that’s my only motivation. For fuck’s sake, I can’t fathom why it’s so hard to understand that gun reform would benefit _everyone_ in this country, not just me.” The boy starts undoing the buttons on his shirt as Tony talks, and it’s only a lifetime of practice at bullshitting that allows him to keep a straight face and the conversation going, even as his mouth goes dry and it’s a little harder for him to breath with each new inch of creamy skin the boy exposes with every button undone.

Peter pulls his shirt off and pulls Tony’s on, starting to button it back up, and Tony can’t help but admire how _fucking good_ the boy looks in his clothes, but he abandons the thought as quickly as it comes, because he can’t afford to go down that path. When the teen’s fully presentable, they head back outside and make their way back to the West Wing.

“So, Pete, how do you feel about our chances at passing the bill?”

“Honestly?” The boy looks a little nervous as he asks, and Tony can’t help but laugh.

“Yes of course, honestly. You seem like a smart kid, what’s your take?”

“I think a lot of people would actually pressure their representatives to vote for it if the narrative wasn’t so centered around you. You mentioned how this reform would benefit everyone, but right now everyone’s talking about you. Make someone else the face of the bill and I guarantee Congress people and Senators are going to have their offices flooded with constituents demanding support for it.”

Tony stops walking abruptly, and it’s only years of experience that prevents a collision with the Secret Service agents behind them. “That’s a great idea, Pete. Mind walking with me to the Oval?”

Peter stands frozen for a few seconds, utterly shocked at being invited so casually into the _Oval Office_ , before rushing to nod his head, a squeak of “yes sir” escaping his mouth.

Tony changes directions, leading him away from the intern’s area and towards the Oval instead. He opens the door and Peter trails in after him, not wanting to seem obvious in his gawking, shooting surreptitious glances in all directions.

“Rhodes, Pep, this is one of our interns, Peter. Peter, this is Vice President Rhodes and the First Lady, who also happens to be my Chief of Staff, as you know.”

Peter reaches out to shake Pepper’s hand first, and then Rhodey’s.

“You can call me Pepper, Peter. Formality is too hard to deal with.”

“Call me Rhodey, kid. And he might not have told you, because he gets off on the power trip sometimes, but you can call him Tony.”

Tony laughs and glances at the boy, who seems slightly overwhelmed. “So Peter had the brilliant idea that in interviews this week we need to take the focus off me, and make someone else the face of this bill. Makes it less personal, and that person will probably be more likable anyway.”

“Probably? Tony, no one likes you.”

“Hey, shut up Rhodes, I actually have a pretty high approval rating.”

“Most of it’s for Pepper, people like her way better than you. But anyway, who are we going to send out, then? There’s no one that’s as closely connected to the issue as you are.”

Tony takes a deep breath before turning to Peter. “Listen, kid, you can always say no, okay? But if you’re comfortable sharing your story, I think it should be you.”

Peter chokes on his own spit. “Me?! Oh, sir, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I’m just a nobody.”

“Exactly. It’s more genuine, makes it seem like you’re not doing this for the political clout, you’re doing this because it’s the right thing to do. Besides, you’re young, kinda cute and easy on the eyes. They’ll eat you up in the news \rooms.”

Peter flushes, Rhodey shoots him a side eye and Pepper ignores him, leaning forward in her seat towards the boy. “But what is your story, Peter? You’re going to have to be comfortable that it’s blasting across millions of televisions in the country.”

“I, ah, lost my Uncle Ben in a robbery gone wrong. Guy had a gun, shot my uncle while he was running from the police and my uncle tried to stop him.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss, Peter.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but my Aunt and I are doing okay these days.”

“Will you be comfortable, up there, on screen? You won’t have to answer a lot of questions, I promise. It’ll just be about what the bill means to you personally, why you think it’s important for the country, stuff like that. Nothing bigger picture about Second Amendment rights or anything, we wouldn’t do that to you.”

Peter fidgets a little, asking “would I be alone, in these interviews?”

Pepper’s quick to respond, “not if you don’t wanna be.”

“Would you be there, sir?” Peter turns to Tony as he asks the question, and even as Pepper’s about to respond that Tony doesn’t really have time for those, the beseeching look in Peter’s eyes has the ‘yes’ falling from his mouth before he can think twice.

“If that’ll make you more comfortable, Pete.” At the boy’s frantic nod, Tony turns to Pepper, and though he can see the warning in her eyes, telling him not to say it, he says it anyway. “Work them into my schedule, Pep. We’ll do them together.” The radiant smile he receives from Peter overpowers any death glare he’s getting from Pepper, and he thinks for a second that he might be dangerously smitten with the boy already.

> **

The next day the week of interviews begin, and Tony and Peter spend hours each day driving from the White House to the Hill and the various newsrooms around the city, answering question after question about the bill and its benefits, forced to defend themselves as the promise no one is trying to take anyone’s Second Amendment rights away. Making Peter the face of the bill has brought up the bill’s popularity in the polls, and everyone is gushing on social media and even in the interviews about how cute he is. Bringing Peter on board was the bets thing they could’ve done for this bill, because even Steve Rogers isn’t willing to be the dick who claims that a boy who lost his father figure to gun violence when he was only ten doesn’t have any valid opinions about gun reform. Opposition in the Senate has gone way down, and everyone in his administration is feeling pretty confident that this time next week, Tony will have the bill on his desk waiting to be signed.

The other upside is he’s gotten to know Peter really well. They spend a lot of time together each day, talk about everything and nothing in between interviews and during car rides. He’s so intelligent, has an opinion about everything, but he’s also sweet. He’ll bring coffee at random times during the day just because he thinks everyone could use a pick me up, he always gets to know the staff and the makeup artists at whatever newsroom they go to, addresses all the aides in West Wing by name. More than just a pretty face the boy has a beautiful soul, and in the span of a week Tony’s fallen head over heels. He’d still fuck the boy through the floor given the chance, but he’d also want to cuddle him after, give Peter anything and everything he needed because he deserves it all and more.

One afternoon they’re back at CNN, having just finished their last interview before the bill goes up for a vote. They’re de-micced, and Peter moves his chair back and turns to get up when someone carrying a coffee tray crashes straight into him, sending the scalding liquid pouring down his shirt.

Tony tuts, quickly ushering him in the direction of the bathroom, telling him to get his shirt off before his skin gets burnt. He opens the door and pulls Peter in, pulling paper towels from the dispenser as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt. He turns around to find the boy’s upper half bare, and Tony can’t help but gravitate closer as he reaches out with the paper towels.

“We keep ending up here, huh?” Tony tries to laugh it off but his voice comes out rougher than usual, the laugh breathy instead of airy, and the temperature in the small room ratchets up a few degrees. When Peter reaches for the paper in his hands he pulls back, moving closer to clean the boy’s skin himself. Tony hears the hitch in his breath, notices Peter’s eyes widen and the blush that spreads across his chest. He rubs lightly, careful not to aggravate the skin, even as his thoughts are racing a mile a minute. He throws away the towels when the boy is sufficiently dry, and it’s only then he notices how close they are. He can feel the boy’s breath on his neck, feels himself leaning down, closer and closer to Peter’s lips, helpless to stop himself when the door suddenly opens, and he wrenches himself away, crossing the small space in two strides to put as much distance between him and the teen as possible.

“Oh, sorry Mr. President! I didn’t realize you were in here. I just- here’s a sweater.” The same intern that spilled the coffee holds it out for Peter. “Sorry for ruining your shirt.”

“Oh, thanks man. It’s no big deal, don’t worry about it.” Peter takes it from the boy, who stands there blinking for a few moments before he turns around.

“Ah, right then, I’ll be going. Sorry again, Mr. President.”

Peter pulls on the sweater, and both men exit the bathroom, mutually agreeing to never bring the moment up again.

> **

Pepper decides on hosting a party the day after Tony signs the bill into law. They never state it has anything to do with the bill specifically, they don’t want to seem like they’re gloating, but everyone in attendance knows what it’s for. Of course, they do have Republican representatives there, even the ones who didn’t vote in favour of the bill. Peter’s currently standing with the rest of the interns, a flute of fancy cider in his hands. They cheers to a job well done, and a lot of them congratulate Peter for everything he did. Peter blushes and brushes them off, insisting he didn’t do much in the grand scheme of things, but everyone ignores him. They stand around, waiting for the President and the First Lady to make their entrance so the party can finally get started.

Then they hear the noise of the doors opening, and Tony walks in with Pepper on his arm, and Peter’s breath is taken away. He’s seen this image hundreds if tomes, Tony Stark in a tux. Has even jerked off to it more than anything else, probably. But seeing it live, in the flesh? The man looks so good it’s physically painful for Peter to witness.

He watches as Tony makes his rounds, shaking hands and sharing laughs, and _Jesus_ he needs another drink to cool himself down. He makes his way over to the bar, “can I just get another cider? Thank you.”

As he turns back around he feels someone come up rather close next to him. “He’ll have the champagne actually, I’ll get another scotch on the rocks.” He turns his head, recognizes him as Republican Congressman James Barnes, Roger’s number one lackey in the House.

“I’ll pass on the champagne, thanks.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Just one drink, not gonna kill you.” Barnes shoots a lecherous glance in his direction, a suggestive raise of his eyebrow

“In case you forgot, Congressman, I’m only 19. Serving me alcohol is illegal. Wouldn’t want to give your constituents another reason not to vote for you come midterms, would you?”

Instead of the offended tirade Peter was expecting, all he receives is a laugh as Barnes throws his head back and laughs. “Call me Bucky, angel. I’m too young for all this Congressman crap. You’re a feisty one, tell me more about yourself.”

As Bucky asks him questions and they get to talking, Peter realizes the man isn’t all that bad. He’s kind of a douchebag, and he’s arrogant, but he’s also funny, and pretty soon Peter’s in tears as he listens to Bucky tell him a story about his and Senator Rogers’ college days. And then he feels a large hand land on his shoulder, and it squeezes lightly. He doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s Tony, he’s spent enough time with the man in close quarters to be able to recognize the scent of his cologne.

“Congressman Barnes, good to see you here. Nice to see you’re getting along with Peter here, and as much as I hate to interrupt your moment, I’m afraid I’m going to have to steal him away for a second, talk shop. Government never rests and all that fun stuff. Peter, mind coming with me?”

And though it’s phrased as a question, something about the man’s tone leads him to believe it’s not a question at all, so he places his flute on the bar surface and gets off the stool. “Bye, Bucky, it was nice meeting you.”

“You too, sweetheart. I’ll se you ‘round.” Bucky shoots a wink in his direction as Tony uses the hand on his shoulder to steer him away, out the doors and to the Oval, a quick pace that Peter has trouble keeping up with.

Tony pushes the door to the office open, issues a terse “give us a minute” to Clint and Nat, who position themselves outside the door as Tony all but shoves Peter inside the room.

“Everything okay, Mr. President? Something wrong?” There’s a bewildered look on the boy’s face that only serves to make Tony angrier.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” It comes out harsher than he intended, but he’s beyond angry, and Peter just looks more confused that before.

Peter genuinely has no idea what’s happening, and he think he might get whiplash from all the emotions that are flitting across Tony’s face “Wh-what was what, sir?”.

“With Barnes, back there. Since when are you two so friendly?”

“We just- we just met like twenty minutes ago, sir. He approached me and we just started talking.”

“Mm. Seemed like a lot more than just talking to anyone that was watching.”

“Sir I- I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

At that, Tony closes the space between them in a few strides, crowding him against the desk that Peter hadn’t even realized was at his back. Peter tilts his face up at the same moment Tony looks down at him, reaching up to grab the boy by the back of his neck. Their faces are so close, Tony’s lips caressing Peter’s as he says, “you don’t understand hm? Let me show you.”

Tony closes the little distance between them, tilting the boy’s neck up to slam his mouth down against Peter’s. The kiss is messy, rough, and when Peter gasps Tony doesn’t hesitate to lick into his mouth, thoroughly exploring every inch he can find. Tony reaches the hand not on Peter’s neck down to palm his ass, squeezing the flesh like he’s wanted to since he laid eyes on the boy. He grinds his hips down, a wicked grin crossing his lips where their pressed against Peter as the boy lets out a breathy moan, throwing his head back.

Tony moves the hand from the boy’s neck to his hair, wrenching his head back for easier access to Peter’s neck and jaw, mouthing roughly against the underside, uncaring if he leaves and marks. The hand on the teen’s ass moves around to the front and he pauses to lift Peter onto his desk before resuming his kissing, squeezing lightly at the tent in the boy’s pants. He runs two fingers up the length, circles them around the head before squeezing roughly, making the boy keen high in his throat.

“Oh, Tony, please!” Peter barely manages the whimper, eyes already squeezed shut as he’s overwhelmed by the sensations

“Right here, baby boy. Need something?”

“Need you, need you Tony!”

“Need what from me, sweetheart?”

Peter can’t help the little sob that escapes him. “Something, anything, just please! It hurts, please.” His cock is achingly hard in his pants, so hard it hurts, and he just needs the pressure eased somehow.

“Mm. Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give you what you want.” There are tears leaking from the corner of the boy’s eyes, and _fuck_ if that doesn’t make Tony’s cock harder in his pants.

“Please, _please_ , will you fuck me, Tony?”

“Ah, ah. I said nicely, baby.”

Peter cracks open an eye, catches the glint in Tony’s gaze. “ _Mr. President, fuck. me. please_.”

Tony smiles wolfishly, “you wish is my command, princess.” He grinds his palm down rough on Peter’s bulge, preparing to open the zipper when the boy cants his hips up against Tony’s hand once, twice, before he’s throws his head back and practically _screams_ , _thank God for the sound proofing_. Tony feels the wetness under his palm, knows what happened but can hardly stand to believe it. “Did you just come?”

Peter flushes at the amusement in Tony’s words, absolutely mortified that he came in his pants like a _fucking_ teenager just before the _President of the United States of America_ was about to _fuck him_.

Just then the door opens behind them, and Tony quickly turns around, shielding Peter behind him. “Tony! What are you doing in here?! You’ve been gone for so long, it’s your party, everyone’s asking for you!”

“I’ll be right there, Pep. Just give me a couple seconds.” When she leaves, Tony turns around to once again face Peter, who still seems to riding his post-orgasm high. “Well, you can’t go back to the party with those clothes. Go upstairs and grab something of mine, you know where to look.” With a wink over his shoulder Tony exits the Oval, making his way back to the ballroom.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hi, sweetheart. You’ve been avoiding me.”

Peter whips around to see Tony behind him as he’s turning the lights off in the intern’s area. It’s late at night, around 8, and the office has cleared out completely. Peter’s the last one left, and Tony’s right, he had been avoiding him. “Oh, Mr. President! Ah, no I haven’t, _haha_ , why would you say that?”

Tony shoots him a look that clearly states he’s unimpressed. “I know avoidance when I see it, angel, I’m quite the expert at it myself. You never came back to the party, and I haven’t even caught a glimpse of you for the last three days. Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

And Peter can’t hold back the tears that escape, and he doesn’t resist when Tony pulls him forward into a hug. He winds his arm’s around the man and buries his face in Tony’s neck, sobs wracking his body. Tony runs a hand through the boy’s hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear and rubbing his back, trying to get him to calm down.

“Shh, baby, don’t cry, please don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong, we’ll make it better, hmm? There’s nothing I can’t fix, but you gotta tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.” Tony makes his best effort at being soothing, takes hope when the boy’s sobs quiet a little

“I-I’m a ho-horrible person.”

At that, Tony pulls back to look at the boy. “Why would you say that, baby? You’re the sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever met.”

“I he-helped you cheat o-on your wife! What kind of good person do-does that?” Peter’s wailed is muffled as he shoves his face back into Tony’s neck, but he understands him regardless.

“Oh, baby boy is that what this is about? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” When he doesn’t get a response, Tony moves his hands to cup Peter’s face, pulling the boy away from him. “Answer me, sweetheart, is that why I haven’t seen you for the least few days?”

Peter’s nod coupled with the miserable expression on his face has Tony releasing the laugh he had been so desperately trying to hold back. Peter snaps his head up, glaring at the older man. “Don’t laugh at me!” he exclaims as he slaps Tony’s arm, who’s laughter dies down, but he still lets out a few chuckles.

“Come with me, sweetheart. I feel like we gotta talk about a few things.” Tony grabs Peter’s hand and drags him behind as he walks to the Oval. Peter almost forgets Nat and Clint are there until Tony opens the office door and walks in, gesturing for Nat to come in as well. He sits the boy down on the couch and sits across from him on the table. “I’m gonna tell you something, Pete, that not very many people know, and Nat will vouch for me when I swear I’m not lying. You willing to listen?”

He receives a shaky nod and a mildly distrustful look from Peter, but it’s better than nothing, so Tony rolls with it. “Pepper and I are… separated, for the lack of a better word.” Peter’s opening his mouth, about to cut him off when he rushes to continue. “Just, ah- just lemme finish, and then you can say your piece, okay? Yes, Pepper is my wife, and my Chief of Staff. Yes, we’re together all the time, and yes, we share the residence. But we don’t share a bed, we don’t share a room, and while we _love_ each other, we’re not _in love_ with each other. Pepper’s actually with someone else.” He inclines his head in Nat’s direction, and Peter’s eyes widen as he gets it. He looks over at her, and his eyes widen impossibly further when she nods. When Peter looks back at him, Tony keeps going. “We haven’t divorced because she refused to sign them when I offered, and Nat threatened me with bodily harm if I ever asked again.” Peter turns to Nat again, and at her nod, he buries his head in his hands.

Tony gestures for her to leave, and she exits the room silently. He moves next to him on the couch, puts an arm around him and pulls Peter into his side. “You okay, sweetheart?”

The boy lets out a long groan, head rolling onto Tony’s shoulders as his hands fall into his lap. “I feel so stupid. I could’ve just asked you about it, or told you how I felt. Instead I wasted three days avoiding you!”

Peter looks so frustrated it’s adorable. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Everyone makes mistakes. You’re cute, so I forgive you.” Tony looks down just as Peter looks up, and he hears the boy’s sharp inhale when he realizes how close they are to each other. Tony cups the teen’s jaw softly, giving him time to pull away even as he closes the last few inches between them, initiating a soft kiss so unlike their first one.

Peter lets out a gasp at the contact, melting into Tony as his hands come up to fist the lapels of the older man’s suit jacket. He moans into Tony’s mouth when the man slips his tongue past the younger’s lips. Tony pulls back after they spend a few minutes lazily exchanging kisses, pressing his forehead against Peter’s. “Baby, before we go any further, I gotta ask you something.”

“Okay, Tony, go ahead.”

“What’s the furthest you’ve ever gone with someone?” Peter, taken aback by the question, ducks his head down, but Tony forces the boy’s gaze back up with his chin. “Well?”

“I’ve ah, never gotten past making out with someone.” Peter flushes, expecting ridicule, but instead Tony growls before slamming their mouths back together.

 Tony bites Peter’s lower lip when he pulls away, breathing hard as he says, “ _God_ , you don’t know how hot that is, baby. But we also gotta stop.”

Peter whines high in his throat. “Whyy? I don’t wanna. Fuck me on the sofa, _please Mr. President_.”

Tony groans, barely holding back, “Christ, you’re a menace to society. But you deserve better than that for your first time, sweetheart. Dinner, dancing, wooing, the whole nine yards, you deserve it all and more baby.” He expects the boy to melt, blush and give in, but that isn’t what happens.

Peter doesn’t give up that easily. He grabs hold of Tony’s shoulder and swings himself into the man’s lap, grinding down slightly while mouthing at the underside of the man’s jaw. “ _Daddy_ , please, I’m so _hard_ , you can’t leave me like this. Take care of me, Mr. President, I need you.” Tony realizes that despite his lack of experience, Peter is _not_ as innocent as one may think, and he feels the breath leave his lungs and his heart stops momentarily in his chest.

He puts both his hands on the boy’s hips and moves him out of his lap, getting up off the couch and opening the office door before Peter can blink. “You’re bad for my health kid, and my self-control. Nat’ll have someone take you home, too late for a pretty thing like you to be biking anywhere. Leave the bike here, someone will pick you up in the morning. I’ll tell Hill you’ll be heading out early tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at 7, so be ready baby. I’ll send something over.”

“Something wrong with my clothes?” Peter throws over his shoulder as he grabs his bag. “I’m going to have to look up pictures of you _again_ to take care of this problem by the way, you’re right here, it would be so much _easier_ if you just fucked me.”

“Nothing at all, sweetheart, I just like you in my clothes. And it might be easier, but patience is a virtue, baby boy. Good things come to those who wait, and all that.” Tony winks as Peter walks toward him, having the last word in any conversation is a talent he’s quite proud of.

“Thanks for the life lesson, _daddy_.” It’s Peter’s turn to wink at Tony when he brushes his hand against the older man’s crotch as he’s exiting the Oval, leaning up to whisper the words in his ear before pulling away.

Tony finishes up some work in the Oval and is making his way upstairs, ready for bed when he hears the familiar ‘ping’ of his text notification. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees a  video message from Peter. He plays it, and nearly chokes and falls down the stairs when he sees the image of Peter licking a substance that looks suspiciously like cum off his hand. He can see the window, notices the moving objects in the background, and realizes that he’s looking at a video of the boy having jerked off in one of his cars, and for the first time in a long time Tony thinks he may have just met his match.

**

Tony doesn’t cross paths with Peter the next day, and avoids seeking him out, building the anticipation for when they see each other later. He got Peter’s texts, both the one he sent last night after getting home, and another one this morning thanking him for the ride. Tony has big plans for the evening, had asked Pepper to arrange some things. Which she had, but not before sappily telling him how happy she was for him that he had finally found someone. He’d given Nat the night off, because as much as the three of them were comfortable around each other, he didn’t think Peter would appreciate having his ex-wife’s current lover standing over the table at their first date.

Peter clocks out at 5, blushing slightly under Hill’s knowing gaze. He hadn’t even told MJ about the date, wanted there to be something to tell before she ended up threatening to castrate the President of the United States. He spends an hour getting ready, bubble bath, exfoliation, the whole nine yards. One of the agents who had come this morning to wake him up had dropped off a box of what Peter had assumed was clothing, but he hadn’t opened it.

He pulled the lid off and picked up the first thing on the top. It was a shirt, clean and smelled fresh, but it didn’t look entirely new. Shrugging, Peter dresses himself, the shirt paired with pants and a jacket, no tie. Peter leaves the first few buttons undone, assuming wherever they’re going is as casual as a President can be.

He’s waiting ready in the kitchen when he hears the knock on the door. He opens the door without checking, sees Tony standing with a bouquet of roses outside, Clint and someone else behind him. “For you, sweetheart.”

Even though Peter was expecting Tony to pull out all the stops, he still blushes a little pink anyway. “Thank you, Mr. President. Come in, and I’ll just put these in the water.”

“Mm, baby, if you actually wanna make it to this date, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I’m also gonna need you to stop with the Mr. President, I’m an old man, being hard for literal hours isn’t the best thing for my health.”

Peter quickly puts the flowers in a vase, locking up behind him and walking out to the motorcade, Tony opening his door before getting in behind him. They settle in and the cars pull away from the curb.

“God, you look good in my clothes, sweetheart.” Tony’s watching him with the most possessive look in his eyes Peter’s ever seen, and he realizes his cheeks are going to be permanently tinted pink around this man.

“Th-these are yours?”

“Got ‘em tailored for you, sweetheart. But I do have a new suit for you here as well, if that makes you uncomfortable, and you wanna change.”

“No! n-no, I like them.”

Tony loves the bashful look on Peter’s face, reassuring him, “I like them too, baby boy.”

They make idle conversation about their day, Tony talking about some of the bills they have in the works, Peter talking about his classes and some of the assignments the interns are covering. Tony marvels at the boy as he talks, riveted by the expressions on his face. This should probably be harder, being with someone twenty years younger than him, “cheating” on his wife, inviting a scandal that could very well bring down his presidency, but _it’s not_. He feels no remorse, no guilt, because being with Peter just makes it all go away, and he hopes the boy doesn’t have any negative feelings about this arrangement either.

They pull up to the restaurant, an fancy one Peter’s heard of, but could never afford to go to. It’s also outrageously busy, MJ once told him her dad had to get a reservation, _six months_ in advance for her mum’s birthday. Tony opens the door and Peter gapes, taking in the glittering chandeliers and the opulent decorations, the fancy table clothes and ornate chairs. Belatedly, Peter realizes there’s only the staff, no other patrons to be seen. There’s only one table that’s lit with a candle, the rest are dark, and Peter’s completely confused as the hostess escorts them to their table. He sidles up next to Tony and whispers harshly, “where’s everyone else?”

Tony glances down at him. “Sweetheart, it’s just us. Can’t exactly take you to a crowded place where anyone could see that the President is on a date with someone who’s clearly not his wife.”

Peter’s heart sinks at the reminder, but he tries to brush it off as he sits down in the seat held out for him by Tony. But the man’s more intuitive than he gives him credit for, and when Tony sits down across from him he grabs Peter’s hand in two of his. “Sweetheart, I wish it could be different. I wish we didn’t have to hide. But, if you’ll have me, it’s only six years, two if I don’t get re-elected. And then it’s just going to be and you, living out the rest of our days wherever you want.”

Peter forgets his sadness in lieu of anger, “Of course you’re going to get re-elected, don’t say that! And I’d wait as long as I’d have to, if it meant I could have you in the end.”

The hostess returns with the drink menus, but Tony doesn’t let go of Peter’s hand, and Peter tries to ignore the questioning and slightly judgemental eyes he feels on him. “Good evening, President Stark, young sir, it’s a pleasure to have you with us this evening, Your server will be along shortly, but can I interest you in any refreshments at this time.”

“I’ll take whatever your best scotch is, and Peter will have…” Tony looks over questioningly at Peter, who just asks for water. As the hostess walks away Tony says, “you could’ve asked for something stronger, you know. They wouldn’t have carded you,” he finishes with a laugh.

“I know, but I’ve never really had anything to drink? I don’t know what’s good or what I like.”

“Oh, all the things I have to show you, sweetheart.” Just then their server comes by, and she asks them what they would like to eat. Tony orders for him, because he belatedly realizes the menu is in Italian and he has absolutely no idea what’s what. The hostess returns with their drinks, placing the scotch in front of Tony and the water in front of Peter. Peter takes a sip, eyeing Tony overtop of his glass. Tony catches him watching, finishes taking a sip before holding the glass out, asking “would you like a taste, baby boy?”

Peter nods hesitantly, but instead of handing him the drink, Tony raises the glass to his mouth, touching it to his lips, pouring the liquid in when he opens his mouth. It burns on the way down, but nothing like the way Tony’s gaze burns into his skin. He licks at the excess alcohol on his lips, pink tongue darting out and Tony growls. “You’re a walking temptation, sweetheart. A verifiable health hazard.”

“Only your, health hazard, daddy.” Peter shivers as Tony’s gaze darkens, and he has a strong suspicion the only reason Tony didn’t yank him across the table was because their food arrived.

The food’s delicious, and Peter makes noises that he swears to Tony are just appreciative of the food, but Tony doesn’t believe it for a second. The way those lips close around the fork, the breathy moans and little groans all a planned attack of seduction by one Peter Parker. But Tony doesn’t give in easily, taking his time with the food, enjoys as Peter gets more and more impatient the slower he eats. He takes pity and asks for the bill eventually, escorting Peter out with a hand low on his back, rubbing soft circles Peter can feel through the layers of clothing.

The second they settle into the car, Peter swings a himself into Tony’s lap, pushing the man flush against the car seats. “Can’t wait till we get home, baby?”

Peter licks a strip up Tony’s neck, biting at his jaw up to his ear where he whispers, “nu-uh, daddy. Need you know.”

“Mm. Cars seem to be your preferred location of sexual activity, hm?” Tony rubs circles into the boy’s hipbones, basking in Peter’s neediness and her places kisses all over Tony’s neck and face.

“So you _did_ get my video. I was unsure, considering the lack of a response.”

“Full disclosure? I was too busy jerking off baby boy.”

“Yeah? Want a live demonstration, Mr. President?”

“ _Yes, please_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr is starkerchemistryy, come say hi! :)


	3. Chapter 3

“Ah ah, don’t move, baby boy. Stay right there.”

Tony presses a hand down on Peter’s back as he leans over to grab the toy from the drawer, and the boy lets out a small whine as the movement leads Tony’s cock to grind up against his poor abused prostate. A few weeks of being with this man and his mind is still regularly blown every time they have sex, which, more often than not, is a few times a day. Over the desk in the Oval is probably not the most comfortable place they’ve ever done it, but it’s where they end up more often than not, largely because if someone comes in, at least Peter can slide underneath the desk.

Tony retrieves the butt plug from the depths of the drawer, nudges it inside the boy’s hole as he moves out, only spilling a few drops of come. “D-ddaddy, _ooh_ , it hurts.”

“It’s a good hurt, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Ah, maybe… Why ‘m I wearing it?”

Tony finally moves off Peter’s back, straightening and turning him around. He grips the boy by the neck and tilts his face up, leaning down to place a kiss on the boy’s lips. “This meeting’s going to be rough. Need you lose and ready to fuck afterwards. My personal stress reliever.” Tony winks, and predictably, Peter flushes, still not use to the man’s filthy mouth even after all this time.

They both straighten their suits, decently presentable by the time Pepper knocks on the door. “Ready to go, Tones?”

“Lead the way Pep. Where’s Rhodey?”

“Right here.” Rhodey walks up behind Pepper as Tony and Peter exit the room.

Tony sighs, “let’s get this over with.” Rhodey moves to walk next to him.

“It’s gonna be a shit show.”

“Oh, I know. Looking forward to it.”

**

Tony walks into the conference room, settling down at the head of the table. Peter takes a seat on the sidelines, Pepper stays by the door, and Rhodey moves into the seat on his right.

“Should I send them in?”

“Might as well, Pep, the sooner we get this over with the better.”

“Right. Senators, Congressmen, welcome. The President is ready to begin.”

Tony stands up, shaking the representatives hands as they walk past. Out of the corner of eye he notices Congressman Barnes take a seat suspiciously close to Peter. The man turns around, offering his hand for Peter to shake, kissing the back of it before letting it go, and as the pink blush paints Peter’s cheeks, Tony feels his anger rise before the meeting’s even begun.

The meeting is, as Rhodey predicted, a shit show. Party lines are draw in seconds, all pretenses of bipartisanship gone. Bruce opens up the party with a snide comment about Rogers ability to convince himself he’s right even when he’s hopelessly, gravely wrong. Barnes tries to stick up for him only to be shot down by T’Challa, who finds it “extremely amusing” that the Republicans want to discuss women’s healthcare without allowing a single female representative from their party to take a seat at the table. Wilson tries to say something in support of Rogers, and Rhodes gets him riled up with a well placed comment along the lines of “you don’t need to be here just to parrot something Rogers says. Form an opinion or shut up,” and on and on until Tony feels the beginnings of a migraine starting to form.

He tries to control them, but it’s like trying to control a group of five year olds. He rubs at his temples, taking a quick glance at Peter to make sure the boy’s doing okay, only to see him heavily invested in a conversation with Barnes. Come to think of it, Barnes has been silent for a while, but Tony had just chalked it up to small miracles and kind mercies. But as he reaches for the remote in his pocket that he initially had no intention of using, he realizes there’s no such thing, because he’s not feeling very merciful at the moment.

His eyes stay glued intently to Peter’s face as he starts off with the lightest setting. The reaction he receives is immediate, Peter jerking upright in his seat as his eyes widen, abruptly cutting off the conversation. Tony thinks Barnes must ask if he’s okay, because Peter jerkily nods his head, panicked eyes finally flashing towards Tony.

Tony’s facial expression doesn’t change, but something in his gaze must come across, because he sees the noticeable movement of Peter’s throat as he gulps, just as Tony increases the setting to the second level. But he underestimate the boy, because it appears he’s not going to give in easily. He turns back to Barnes, schooling his expression so the only thing giving him away to Tony is the flushed red of his cheeks.

Barnes abandons all pretenses of being interested in the meeting, leaning over to rub his thumb softly over the heated skin of Peter’s cheek. The boy, to his credit, doesn’t lean in, but he also doesn’t push him away, and Tony hopes his anger is conveyed as he skips a few settings and ratchets it straight to the sixth level. Peter doubles over, no longer able to pretend there isn’t a vibrating butt plug nudging up against his prostate, and he keens high in his throat, letting out a whine he tries to disguise as a cough when everyone in the room turns to him, but Tony knows better. He smirks in satisfaction, turning back to the meeting and leaving the boy to ride out the pleasure as best he can.

But the conversation has devolved completely from healthcare to outright personal attacks, and Tony gives up all hope of having a civil meeting. He turns back to gauge the boys discomfort, thinking maybe he could be persuaded to turn it off, only to notice the boy is conversing with Barnes, _again_. _Fuck this shit_ , Tony thinks as he turns the vibrator to the highest setting, and Peter _screams_. Immediately everyone jumps out of their seats, rushing over to ask what’s wrong. But Tony pushes everyone out of the way, muttering something about how the boy must be suffering from exhaustion, “I’ll take him to the Oval to lie down. Meeting adjourned, everyone, unfortunately. Great progress, though, we’ll be sure to pick this back up sometime soon.”

He places Peter’s arm over his shoulders before leaning down to hook his arms under the boy’s knees, carrying him out of the room. He makes his way down the hallways, throwing open the door to the Oval and slamming it shut on everyone behind him, cutting off their chatter.

Tony sets Peter on his feet. “Strip,” he barks out.

“ _Ahh_ , M-mr. President, hu-hurts.”

“Hurts, does it? Wish I cared. _Strip_ , or you’ll be walking out of here without a suit.”

Peter hurriedly strips, shuddering and jerking as his movements bring the plug into contact with his prostate again and again, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure and pain up his spine. As he strips, Tony moves over to one of the windows, throwing the curtains back so light streams through the room.

“Over here, slut.” He unbuckles his pants, contemplates choking the boy on his cock, but decides he’s too riled up for it. When Peter’s within arm’s reach he moves, pulling the boy forward before turning him around and slamming him up against the window.

Tony pulls the plug out inch by inch, agonizingly slow, allowing the teen to feel the full effects of the vibrations. He throws it on the floor still vibrating, slamming into the boy in one thrust, feels his last load coating his length. He starts moving immediately, pounding into the boy in rough, violent strokes.

“Oh, daddy, _hngg_ , h-hurts! Glass ‘s cold,” Peter whines, panting as he feels his precome smear against the window, the force of Tony’s movements jerking his body.

“We’ve already established, baby, that I don’t really care if it hurts. In fact, it should hurt. Little pain might remind a slut like you who the _fuck_ you belong to,” Tony growls in the boy’s ear, laving his tongue against the pale column of the teen’s neck before biting down, leaving marks he knows will be visible, hoping for it actually. A clear, noticeable reminder of who the boy belongs to.

Tony reaches up to palm the boy’s length, feels how hard he is, the fluid beading at the tip. “Aww, this doing it for you, baby boy? The President of the United States fucking you up against the Windows of the Oval Office where anyone could see? That got your pretty little cock hard?”

Peter doesn’t answer, leaning his head back against Tony’s shoulder, needing the support as he feels his knees beginning to buckle underneath him. Tony shifts one hand from Peter’s hip to his hair, roughly wrenching it back, and Peter _wails_. “I asked you a _fucking_ question, baby boy. This do it for you? Or you wanna go crawling to Barnes?”

“ _Ah,_ that does it for me daddy that does it for me! Want ‘em to know who I be-belong to, that ‘m yours. don’t belong to a-any – _oof_ – anyone else.”

“Yeah? Sure as shit didn’t seem like it, the way you were all over him back there.” Tony slows his thrusts, replacing fast, hard strokes in favour of slow, languid movements, grinding against Peter’s already swollen prostate.

“He, _fuck_ , he’s nothing like you, Mr. President. Doesn’t do it for me, _shit_ , no one else does. Not like you. _God,_ your cock feels so _good_ , fucking me so good, ‘m so full.” Peter’s breath fogs up against the windows, and when he looks up he catches Tony’s eyes in the reflection. The hunger, the _possessiveness_ he sees in the eyes looking back at him make shim shiver.

“That’s right, princess, you’re fucking _mine_. And I don’t appreciate when my belongings forget who they belong to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, _yes_ I understand daddy. Please, f-fuck me harder. Need it, need _you_ , _please_.” Peter feels tears forming in the corner of his eyes, the slow pace providing frustratingly little friction.

“Ask me real nice, sweetheart.”

“ _Mr. President, fuck. me. please._ ”

“Your wish is my command, baby. Gonna fuck you so full, gonna fill up this little hole so you remember you who belong to. You want my load, hm?” Tony starts pistoning his hips, fucking the boy back and forth on his cock like a rag doll, slamming him into the window repeatedly.

Peter finally releases the tears, the cock nailing his prostrate giving him too much pleasure for him to even see straight. “Yes, daddy, want your load, _need_ it, so badly.”

“Oh, I know you do, princess. Before you get it, you’re going to cum for me. Paint that pretty window white, let them see how good I make you feel.” When Peter moves his hand from the window to his cock, Tony bats it away. “Did I say you could touch my cock? You’re gonna come like this, sweetie, or you’re not going to come at all. I’m close Peter, come before me or I’ll send you home like this, won’t let you come for a week.”

“ _Oh_ , daddy, need your hand, ‘s no-not enough, _please_.”

“You’re being so good for me, sweetheart, don’t wanna disappoint me now, do you? Daddy wants to see his princess come on his cock, so you’re going to _fucking. come._ Come for me baby boy, let go for me like I know you can. _Come_.”

Peter comes with the kind of scream that makes Tony, once again, grateful for the soundproofing in the Oval. He follows behind the boy immediately, the fluttering muscles around his cock easily milking another load from him. Peter collapses against the window, boneless, and Tony drapes himself over the boy’s back. They stand like that for a while, recovering from the force of their orgasms, getting their breathing back to normal.

Peter wriggles against Tony, the sensation being pressed against the cold glass of the window with his drying come beneath him uncomfortable. “Ah, ah, stay right there, sweetheart.”

Tony leans back, retrieving the still vibrating plug from the floor. He inches the plug in while pulling his cock out, and Peter lets out a high pitched moan until the plug is fully seated.

“We’ll leave that for round three, next time someone pisses me off, hm?’


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was uploaded to tumblr ages ago, but I'm lazy af and kept forgetting to update on here, my b :')

“Hey Tones? Senator Rogers is out here, wants to see you, something of ‘the utmost importance’, he says,” Pepper lets him know as she pokes her head in through the door.

“He have an appointment?”

“Nope, showed up unannounced.”

“Tell him I’m busy, then, I don’t have the time.”

“Oh, I think you’ll make the time, Mr. President, when you hear what I have to say.” Steve barges past Pepper into the Oval, sauntering in and taking a seat like he owns the place. Tony’s already irked, so he makes no effort to get up, shake the man’s hand, or move closer to him. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed, and raises an eyebrow, the inly gesture Rogers will receive to continue.

Pepper moves to leave the room when Steve says, “Ah, First Lady, I think you’ll want to stay for this one as well.” Confused, she turns around, but instead of taking Rogers invitation to sit next to him, she walks over and leans back on the desk, neither half of the Stark couple remotely interested in playing his games.

“Fine, then. Would you like to hear what I have to say?” Steve smirks, arrogance exuding from his pores.

“Not really,” Pepper shrugs.

“But you rudely barged in here,” Tony continues.

“So say whatever the fuck it is that you have to say and then fucking leave,” Pepper finishes, and Tony holds back a laugh as Steve’s skin turns an ugly shade of red, the man starting to lose his cool at their indifference.

“So unbelievably arrogant, the two of you,” Steve begins, and Tony scoffs.

“Hypocrisy isn’t cute, Stevie dear.”

“Christ, Stark, for once in your life just fucking shut up. Can’t keep your mouth shut, even when you’re fucking your barely legal intern, can you?” Tony can’t think of a more accurate adjective to describe the look on Steve’s face other than _smug_ , and he fucking hates it. He forces himself to remain passive even as his heart drops through the floor, and he leans forward to squeeze Pepper’s hand when she offers it, neither of them giving Rogers the satisfaction of eliciting a reaction.

Steve continues, desperate for some kind of response. “What, did you think no one would find out? That you were regularly fucking some twink in the Oval Office? The office that belongs to the people, betraying not only your oath as a President, but as a _husband_?”

“Oh, save me the self-righteous bullshit, Rogers,” Pepper groans, “sleeping with someone isn’t _betraying his oath to the people_ , _Jesus Christ_ , so fucking dramatic.”

Steve seems at a loss for words, and he gapes at Pepper. “You knew?! That he was _cheating_ on you, and _you don’t care_?”

Pepper smirks, and Tony feels like he knows what’s about to come out of her mouth before she says it, and he tries to stop her, but it’s too late. “Why would I? I cheated on him first. My girlfriend’s actually right outside.”

Steve looks like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth, but nothing comes out. Tony almost feels bad for him, because he would be hard pressed to figure out if Pepper was joking too. _Almost_ though, because he’s a prick and he fucking deserves it.

“No one’s cheating on anyone here,, Rogers, and even if we were, it’s none of your fucking business,” Pepper continues.

“Is that all you came here to say, to share your hallucinations with us? Because neither of us have the time for this, we have a country to run.” Tony finally moves around to the front of the desk, ready for Rogers to leave before either of them say something genuinely incriminating.

Tony catches the change in Steve’s expression, and Tony thinks he _might_ have pushed it too far just as Steve jumps out of his seat, fully angry. “Right, both of you, shut the fuck up. Honestly, Pepper, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were cheating, I wouldn’t blame you. Regardless, I don’t really give a shit. Stark, you’re lying through your fucking teeth, because I’ve seen the footage. I don’t know if you know, and FBI agent reviews the footage from the Oval every night, and someone was finally concerned enough to bring it to me. Let’s discuss the terms of my silence, shall we?” Tony makes to interrupt, but Steve cuts him off. “No, you’re still shutting up. I want you to make a public announcement that next term, you’re going to be running as a Republican, and I’m going to be your running mate. Oh, and you’re going to break up with your pretty little boyfriend, because Barnes wants a chance with that ass. You have eight hours to decide, otherwise I’m taking this to the press, your little boy toy’s going to be torn to shred in the media, and the careers of everyone in this administration are going to go down in flames. Eight hours, Stark, remember that. I want that announcement tonight.” Steve finishes his rant and flounces out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him before either Tony or Pepper can get a word in edgewise.

The silence hangs heavy, the tension palpable. “Fuck.”

“That about sums it up. Marshalling the troops, brb.”

**

Twenty minutes later, Nat, Pepper, Rhodey, and Peter are all gathered in the Oval, alternating between sneaking glances at each other and at the ceiling, figuring out what the fuck they’re going to do.

“Alright, I’m just gonna say it. Tones, if you don’t do what he says, you’re going to be crucified anyway. No one’s going to vote for a man who “cheated” on his wife with a nineteen year old boy. Don’t worry about me, I’ll stay on as an advisor or something.”

Nat smacks Rhodes upside the head as Tony sighs. “Leave him be, Nat. We’re all thinking it, he’s just the one who said it.”

“T-tony? I think you should do it. The only reason he’s saying it is because they know they don’t stand a chance against you next election. This isn’t worth losing your career over-I’m not worth losing your career over.” Peter’s voice cracks on the last few words, and Tony physically feels his heart crack in his chest when he looks up to see the tears in the boy’s eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t be here right now. But for what it’s worth Tony , I love you. Always have, always will, but I can’t ask you to give this up for me, so it’s goodbye, I guess.” Peter begins to sob as he flees the room without a backwards glance, and Tony feels the crack expand until his heart _shatters_ , and he can’t hold back the few tears that begin to escape. He buries his head in his hands, heaving sobs wracking his body as he finds himself for the first time in a long time at a complete loss for what to do. Nat and Rhodey quietly exit, leaving Pepper to cradle Tony close, and comfort him as best she can.

**

Tony’s been sitting at his desk for nearly five hours, and he feels like he might go crazy. It’s been six hours since Rogers left, and after a solid hour of crying, Tony had asked Pepper to leave as he prepared the speech that was going to destroy his legacy and tear out whatever was left of his heart. It’s coming up on seven in the evening, and Tony decides to take a walk around the White House, hoping to clear his head before the speech.

As he walks though, all he can see is place after place that reminds him of Peter, moments which, after the longest time, had made Tony feel whole again. Secret corners where they had stolen kisses, open spaces where they had laughed like friends, every inch of the House is covered with memories of Peter that Tony can’t escape, and as he’s making his way back to his office, he’s hit with a sudden realization.

“Nat, get Pep.”

**

Peter hears the knock on his door, contemplates not answering it because he hadn’t invited anyone over, and it was likely a neighbour that needed to borrow a spare key but he has no energy to interact with anyone right now. He’d rushed home from the Oval, changing into his most comfortable sweater and sweatpants before curling up in his bed to cry his heart out. He’s been crying for six hours straight, his eyes feel puffy and swollen and his nose is running, but he hauls himself out of bed when the knocking gets more insistent.

“What do you wa-” Peter trails off mid-sentence, speechless, because the last person in the world he expected on his door step was Tony, who just gives him a toothy grin before pushing past him and making his way inside.

“Is that any way to greet your boyfriend, sweetheart?”

Tony’s question finally brings some sense back to Peter, and he panics. “T-Tony! What’re you doing here?!”

Tony pauses his perusal of Peter’s home. “To spend a nice night in with my boyfriend, obviously. What else would I be doing here?”

“Tony!”

“That is my name, baby, no need to wear it out.”

“TONY! This is serious, you can’t be here right now. Rogers is expecting you to make the speech in less than an hour, you need to go!” Peter exclaims, attempting to shove Tony out the door.

“Hey, _hey_ , baby boy, stop. I’m not going anywhere. I’m exactly where I need to be.” Tony turns around, takes Peter’s hand in one of his, running the other one down the side of the boy’s face before cupping his cheek, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips.

Tony pulls back, pleased when Peter’s sufficiently speechless, and turns to walk into the kitchen. He starts pulling out plates, setting the bag in his hands on the counter. Peter trails in a few seconds later, seemingly still dazed as he watches Tony load Chinese food onto two plates. He walks into the living room, and Peter follows, completely bewildered by the scene in front of him. Because the President of the United States is sitting on his couch, turning on his TV, and shoveling noodles into his mouth while the clock runs out on his career.

“ _Christ_ , Tony, does Pepper know where you are? Maybe she can talk some sense into you.”

“She knows. There’s no sense to be had. Sit down, babe, food’s getting cold.” Tony lifts his arm up, indicating that he wants Peter to snuggle, but the boy stays standing, pacing the area in front of the TV.

“God, Tony, you can’t actually be this stupid. Can you? You can’t, you honestly can’t.”

“Hey, watch your mouth. Daddy doesn’t like having to say things twice. Come. sit. down.”

Peter settles onto the couch, because Tony looks like he’s bordering on irritated, but he still can’t let it go. “Why are you doing this, Tony? ‘M not worth it, not worth your career,” he pleads with the older man, begging him to understand.

“None of that, now, c’mon Pete, do you really not know?” At Peter’s blank stare, Tony shakes his head, chuckling slightly. “ _God_ , you really don’t know, do you? That I’m so fucking in love with you I can’t think about anything else. I tried to write that speech, I really did, but all I could think about was you, all the memories we’ve made together, how much you mean to me, and I just couldn’t fucking do it. My career’s going to be just fine, but even if it wasn’t, I’d burn it all down for you, baby boy. We’re going to sit here, run out the clock together. We’re going to sit here, and you’re going to _watch me choose you_. Watch me _earn_ you, because you’re the love of my life, sweetheart, and if you think I’m giving you up for anyone, least of all for Rogers and fucking Barnes, you don’t know me at all.”

By the end of Tony’s little speech Peter is crying, and Tony is too, but he cups the boy’s face and swipes his thumbs across his cheeks. “No tears, baby. Don’t like seeing you cry. Nearly broke my heart today, tears in your eyes are cancelled.” Tony leans down, ready to kiss Peter, but the boy pulls away slightly.

“What about when I cry during sex?” Their lips are millimeters apart, and Tony huffs out a laugh.

“Okay, those are allowed. Now shut up and kiss me, sweetheart. It’s been a long day.” Tony and Peter’s lips finally meet, and even though they can both taste the salt from the other’s tears, it’s the best kiss they’ve ever had.

Only a few seconds later, they’re interrupted by CNN’s breaking news, Wolf Blitzer screaming obnoxiously on the screen, “President Stark’s infidelity brought to light.”

Tony heaves a sigh, extricating himself from Peter’s hold. “Gotta put this on pause, sweetheart. Need to go make that speech.”

“What do you mean, where are you going now?” Peter asks, bewildered.

“The press, they’re waiting outside. Told Pepper to send them here.”

“WHAT?! You told the _media_ , where _I live_?”

“Relax, sweetheart, I have a plan,” Tony winks, moving off the couch, but Peter stops him with a hand on his wrist. Tony shoots a questioning look in his direction.

“Want me to come with?”

**

Tony and Peter step outside, the Secret Service forming a bubble around them even as the flashes from the cameras are blinding, and the audio is deafening.

“Mr. President!”

“Mr. President, over here!”

“Mr. Parker, is it true that you slept with the President?”

“Mr. Parker, has President Stark hurt you? Has he threatened you in any way?”

“Hey, hey! Settle down, settle down, or we’re going back inside, and no one’s going to get the story! And I take offense, I’ve never hurt or threatened anyone in my life.” Tony exclaims, and the shouting finally quiets, a few chuckles escaping the reporters.

“Thank you. Now here’s how it’s going to work. I’m going to say my piece, I’m going to answer _one_ question, and then we’re calling it a night. Got it?” The crowd begins to protest, but Tony cuts them off. “Uh uh, those are the terms, take it or leave it.” When the crowd stays quiet Tony gives a satisfied nod. “Right. You’re all curious, so I’m going to get straight to the point. I have no idea what exactly Rogers has said, but it is true that I am having an affair with Mr. Parker. I met him a few months ago, we fell in love, and now here we are. The First Lady and I will be getting divorced soon, but she _will_ stay on as my Chief of Staff. I fully intent to run for a second term, as an Independent, and Vice President Rhodes’ name will be on the ticket with me. I’ll take _one_ question now, and I mean _one_ , so make it a good one.”

“President Stark, what happens next?” someone shouts.

Tony thinks it over a second, and a wicked grin crosses his face, one that Peter knows spells trouble. “What happens next? _Right now_ , I’m going inside to have a fun filled night with my boyfriend, and _tomorrow,_ he’s moving in with me. Beyond that? Who knows. Thank you everyone, goodnight!”

With that, Tony takes Peter’s hand and they walk back inside, shutting the door on the shouting that continues outside.

Tony turns around only to find himself pressed back against the door as Peter slams his mouth onto his, initiating a filthy kiss. Tony gasps, and Peter takes advantage, licking into the older man’s mouth. They stay pressed together for a few minutes until Peter finally pulls away, heaving for breath.

Tony leans his head back against the door. “Not that I didn’t appreciate that, but what’s the occasion?”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Peter growls, nipping at Tony’s bottom lip.

He receives a filthy grin in return. “Yeah? Me, broadcasting to millions of people across the country that you’re my boyfriend really do it for you?”

“Fuck yeah it does.” As Tony watches, Peter drops to his knees, hurriedly undoing Tony’s belt. “Let me show you just how much, daddy.”

Tony’s head thumps back against the door as the boy’s pink tongue slips out from between his plump lips, lapping softly at the head of his now aching cock. He lets out a whine as Peter pulls away, only stroking lightly.

“Ah, ah, Mr. President, eyes on me.” With that, Peter moves back in, taking the head of Tony’s cock into his mouth as Tony winds his hands into the boy’s hair. He doesn’t move them, choosing to let the boy set the pace. He focusses on keeping his eyes open even as he wants to go cross eyed from the pressure. The slick velvet heat of Peter’s mouth never fails to get him close embarrassingly quickly, and he feels the beginnings of an orgasm already pooling low in his stomach.

Just then, Peter pulls back off his dick. “Fuck my mouth, daddy,” and Tony feels the air punched from his lungs as he registers the words. “Choke me on your cock, _use me_ , Mr. President. I want it.”

With that, Peter takes Tony’s whole length into his mouth right down to the root, forcing himself not to gag around it even as it nudges his gag reflex. Tony stays utterly still, not sure if the boy really knows what he’s asking for. But then Peter whines high in his throat, and Tony feels the vibrations against his length, and he groans.

“You sure, baby boy? You know what you’re asking for?” And in answer, sweet, innocent Peter Parker, still fully dressed in a three-piece suit, ruts his hips against Tony’s foot and tightens Tony’s hands in his hair as he moves forward imperceptibly, and Tony loses it.

He uses his grip on Peter’s hair to pull him back before slamming his cock back into his mouth, setting a brutal pace. He fucks into the boy’s mouth roughly, relishing the little choking sound he makes. “This what you need, princess? Need to be on your knees for daddy, mouth getting fucked like it was made to?” Peter’s whimper is distorted with Tony’s dick down his throat, but he tries his best nonetheless, and Tony appreciates the effort. “There’s a sweet boy. Daddy likes it when his baby boy knows his place. And yours is right here, isn’t it? At the feet of the President of the United States, choking on my cock like your life depends on it.” Another moan makes it way up Peter’s throat, bubbling out around Tony’s length, and Tony takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him.

His boy looks utterly _wrecked,_ spit dribbling out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin, eyelashes matted with tears as he forces himself not to gag, lips a swollen red as they stretch around his length. _Fucking beautiful_ , Tony think, and the sight has him tipping over the edge, and he fucks his hips forward once, twice, before he’s releasing into the boy’s mouth, holding Peter in his place while he comes and comes, shooting his load down the teen’s throat. Eventually, the aftershocks fade, and Tony lets his soft and sensitive length slip from Peter’s mouth.

The boy is looking up at him with utter adoration in his eyes, and Tony, riding a post-orgasm power high, has an idea. “Such a good boy, baby, you took it so well. Now, remember your manners. Say ‘thank you for letting me suck your cock, daddy’.”

Peter’s eyes widen, and he feels his cock harden as he utters the humiliating words. “Thank you for letting me suck your cock daddy.”

Tony feels his spent cock twitch to life as he watches Peter’s gorgeous mouth form the words. “ _Fuck_ , you’re going to be the death of me. You wanna cum, princess?”

Peter nods frantically. “ _Oh_ , yes Mr. President, please.”

“Hm, well only since you were so good for me today. Here.” With that, Tony sticks his leg out, arching an eyebrow when Peter fails to move. “Are you going to get off with what I give you baby, or you wanna go to bed with your pretty little cock still hard and leaking?”

“NO! N-no, daddy, sorry. Wanna get off.” Peter shifts forward, bracketing Tony’s foot with his knees, and begins rutting his cock against the fabric of Tony’s suit.

“That’s what I thought. _God,_ so pretty for me, baby. Just like that, work your hips, get your cock off sweetheart. Daddy wants to see his gorgeous boy come.”

“Daddy, ‘s not enough. Can I, _hngg_ , can I take my cock out? P-please?”

Tony tuts, “so greedy, princess. I think you’re getting too spoiled. You’re supposed to take what daddy gives and say thank you, not ask for more. Apologize, or I’m gonna move my foot away.”

“ _Ah_ , no please, ‘m sorry daddy. Sorry for being greedy.”

“That’s what I thought… Daddy’s getting tired angel, and as pretty as you look on your knees for me, I’m gonna need you to come. Want you to come in those pants all pretty for me, and want you to do it in the next two minutes, or you’re gonna have to get off against the door. And I’ll only give you an extra minute. So you gonna come for me?”

“Y-yes daddy, m’ close, so close, gonna come, gonna come,” Peter babbles, frantically canting his hips forward as he tries to find the friction he needs. He cries out, throwing his head back and whining when he can’t find it, and Tony takes pity. He puts his hands in the boy’s shoulders and pushes him down, at the same time pushing his leg more firmly against the boy’s front. Peter works his hips faster, and it’s only a few more thrusts before he comes, pretty little whimpers falling form his lips as he rides out his orgasm. When the aftershocks fade he collapses, boneless against Tony’s leg, his head resting just above Tony’s knees.

“Say ‘thank you for letting me come’.”

“Thank you for letting me come, Mr. President.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr is starkerchemistryy, come say hi! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part of my twenty-five fics of Christmas, cross-posting for fun :)

“Babe, you ready to go yet?!” Tony calls up the stairs.

“Almost! But Tony, are you _absolutely sure_ we should go? The weather predictions aren’t the greatest.” Peter appears at the top of the stairs, fully dressed and ready to go despite his concerns.

“We’ve been over this, sweetheart, we’ll be _fine_. I need the getaway baby, I feel like I’ve barely seen you this past week.” Tony groans, not wanting to have this conversation yet again.

“Tony, you fucked me through the mattress every night this week. And twice in the Oval.” Peter rolls his eyes as he hovers at the top of the stairs, faking exasperation while secretly finding the President’s neediness quite endearing.

“That’s not _quality time_ , princess. Good to know all you want me for is my body, Pete. I swear, you need to get your cute little ass down here, _now_ , that’s an order.”

Begrudgingly, Peter picks up his bag, heading down the staircase to where Tony’s waiting. Once he descends the last step Tony grabs his wrist, yanking his boyfriend forward into his chest. His arms come around the boy’s waist and Peter rests his hands on the lapels of Tony’s coat, relishing the warmth underneath his palms.

Tony looks down at Peter. “Took you long enough.”

‘Well, I could never disobey a direct order from the President. But Tony, honestly, you _know_ you need to be at the Hill all week next week, the vote’s scheduled for Friday and you need every last vote you can marshal.” The concern on Peter’s face is adorable, and Tony can’t help but lean down and place a quick peck on his boyfriend’s inviting lips.

“I need this weekend more, baby boy, but either way, it’s going to be _fine_. DC’s seen snow before. Now come on, let’s get outta here before DEFCON changes.”

**

Peter wakes first the next day, draping himself in a bedsheet to fight off the chill as he makes his way to the window, admiring the fresh snowfall outside. They’d been there for less than twenty-four hours and already he was feeling more refreshed. Tony, too, looks more at peace than Peter has ever seen him, the frown lines marring his otherwise perfect forehead nowhere in sight. This weekend at Camp David had been much needed, Tony was right, and he was never going to let Peter live it down.

Lost in thought as he watches the snowflakes fall, Peter startles a little when two warm arms wrap around him from behind, instinctively craning his neck to the side to offer Tony better access when he places a kiss on Peter’s neck. “Morning, sweetheart.”

“Oh, morning Mr. President.”

Tony groans, “give it a rest babe, we’re supposed to be _relaxing_. You’re out here trying to work me to my wear old bones.”

“Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining last night!” Peter softly smacks Tony’s forearm where it rests on his middle, giggling when Tony tickles him lightly.

“Mm, well, enjoying yourself, princess?” Peter recognizes the tone of Tony’s words and knows where this is headed, sighing as he mentally prepares himself.

“You know I am, Tones.”

“I…”

“ _You_ told me so, yeah, yeah, I know.”

“’m glad you’re enjoying yourself baby, jeez, give me some credit.” Peter turns in his boyfriend’s hold as much as he’s able, an eyebrow raised. Tony grins, “but also, I definitely told you so.”

“Well, I told you so too! The weather predictions were right, it’s coming down pretty heavy out there.”

“Nat!” Tony calls, and Nat pokes her head in through the door.

“Yes, Mr. President?”

“How’s the weather looking? Conditions still drivable?”

“Yes sir, Mr. President, nothing the motorcade can’t handle.”

Tony turns back to Peter. “See? Stop worrying babe, and come back to bed. ‘S cold and I wanna cuddle.”

**

Peter emerges from the bedroom, shrugging on his jacket as Tony follows behind, adjusting his watch. “Do you have everything you need, babe? We won’t be back for a while, make sure you don’t leave anything behind.”

“Triple checked, sweetheart,” Tony responds. “We’re good to go.”

Nat straightens as she finishes speaking into the mic on her lapel, piping up from her position by the door. “Uh, Mr. President?”

Tony and Peter both turn to face her. “What’s up, Nat?”

“Good news and bad news.” Tony and Peter exchange a glance.

“Good news first,” Tony decides.

“Your vacation’s been extended?” Although it should be a statement, Nat phrases it like a question, knows Peter’s response is going to be leass than pleased.

Sure enough, the boy speaks up. “Tony…”

“Shh, Pete, stop overreacting. Bad news, Nat?”

“Road conditions are no longer safe or drivable, Mr. President. We’re stuck here until the weather clears up.”

They hear the clock ticking as silence descends in the room, and Tony sighs.

“Go on, say it. I know you want to.”

“Oh please. I’m not petty like you. Might as well get back in bed, doesn’t look like it’s clearing up soon.”

“Best thing you’ve said all weekend, sweetheart.”

“But also, I told you so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr is starkerchemistryy, come say hi! :)

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is starkerchemistryy, come say hi! :)


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